THE WIDOW
by Donna McIntosh
Summary: After L.D.'s death, Lureen finds some suspicious papers and hires a private detective to find our why her father was paying an unscrupulous doctor 50,000 a year.


Title: THE WIDOW

Title: THE WIDOW

Author: Donna McIntosh

Email: 

Fandom: Brokeback Mountain/Donald Strachey Mysteries

Cast: Heath Ledger as Ennis Del Mar

Jake Gyllenhaal as Jack Twist

Chad Allen as Donald Strachey

Sebastian Spence as Timothy Callahan

Genre: Slash

Rating: NC-17 FRAO

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, I make no money from them, they just visit me from time to time.

Summary: After L.D.'s death, Lureen finds some suspicious papers and hires a private detective to find out why her father was paying an unscrupulous doctor 50,000 a year.

THE WIDOW

"Donald, it's freezing in here. You can't be expected to work in a place like this."

"I know, Timothy, I know. I've tried and tried to get in touch with the landlord but he's out of town and we're just going to have to make do for now."

"This place is a mess. Why on earth did you ever let Arnold go? He always kept the place so nice and neat and even watered your plants." Timothy moved stacks of folders so he could sit down then went on. "I thought you liked him, you said he had connections and he even brought you lunch from time to time."

"That was just it, Timothy. He brought me lunch all right; and he wanted me for desert."

"Oh. Yes well; I never liked him anyway; too swishy for me. You're better off without him." Timothy adjusted his glasses and surveyed the over flowing desk. "What is it you're looking for anyway? Can't we just go to dinner and look for whatever it is tomorrow?"

"A check, Timothy; the final payment on the Duncan case. House payment is due tomorrow, remember?" Donald answered as he shuffled through file folders.

"A check?" Timothy came to attention then, standing up and digging through the mess on top of his husband's desk. "Did they pay the full amount? Is it enough to cover the house payment?"

"Enough to make the payment and get that new set of tires for my car that I've been needing. There it is!" He announced triumphantly as he bent down and picked it up off the floor under his foot and handed it to Timothy.

"Thank heavens!" Timothy said as he tried to rub the shoe print off it.

"Believe me, Timothy, Heaven had nothing to do with that particular check." He came around in front of his desk and slung an arm over his husband's shoulder and nuzzled a kiss behind his ear.

"I don't really care, Donald, as long as it's good. We can drop this off at the bank on our way to the restaurant."

"Sounds like a plan to me." Donald said as he dug his coat out from under a pile of folders.

The knock on the door startled both of them. Timothy gave Donald a look and whispered "Get rid of whoever it is. We've got plans for dinner."

"This could be next month's house payment; be patient!" Donald opened the door to find a beautiful woman standing there.

"Excuse me, I'm lookin for Donald Strachey the private detective?" She looked from one of them to the other.

"You've come to the right place then. I'm Donald Strachey. He motioned for her to come in and cleared a place for her to sit down. He sat on the corner of his desk. "How can I help you?"

"This is rather private. If you're busy I can come back tomorrow?" She looked over at Timothy who was leaning against the filing cabinet studying her.

"I'm sorry, this is my partner, Timothy Callahan."

"How do you do," they both greeted each other.

"It's freezin in here! Don't you have any heat in this place?" She asked them.

"It's not exactly working right now and the land lord's out of town," Donald apologized.

"Have you gentlemen had dinner yet? I noticed a little coffee shop just down the street. Could we possibly adjourn this meetin there? My flight just got in and I haven't had dinner yet and I'm starvin; it would be my treat, of course."

"We were just talking about dinner," Timothy offered with a friendly smile.

"As a matter of fact, we were, Miss … ?" Donald agreed.

"Oh my goodness; I'm forgettin my manners. I'm Lureen Twist; from Childress, Texas." She stuck out her gloved hand and shook with each of them.

Just then a gust of wind rattled the windows in the small office and the three of them shivered.

"OK, Lureen Twist from Childress, Texas, you've got yourself a couple of dinner dates but I warn you the food in that coffee shop leaves a lot to be desired."

"Well, the two of you were plannin on going to dinner; can you recommend another place; somewhere that's heated? We don't have this kind of weather in Texas; at least not in May."

"I can. It's a favorite spot of ours and only a few miles from here. They make the best Martinis in town; the food is good and the price is right."

"Lead the way!" Lureen said with a smile as they three of them headed out into the frigid night.

Ten minutes later they were seated at a table and waiting to be served.

"Now, may I ask how it is that you need my services?" Donald asked.

"Yes, of course." Lureen said as she removed her gloves. "I don't even know where to begin; this all seems so preposterous." She gave them an apologetic little smile.

"The beginning usually seems to work." Timothy offered.

"I'm a widow. At least, I think I am." Lureen started.

Timothy and Donald exchanged glances and waited for her to go on.

"My husband died five years ago come August. August 23, 1983." She paused for a moment at the sad memory.

"And you have reason to believe he may not be dead?" Donald prompted.

"Maybe, I shouldn't have started there. You see, my father passed away, four months ago and I inherited his estate. I've been going over all his files and bank books and I came across these." She reached into her purse and came out with some checks and handed the first one to Donald.

"As you can see, it's made out for fifty thousand dollars to the Kinisen Institute. It's a private clinic."

"Your father was a very generous man," Timothy said.

"Notice the date on the check please."

They both looked at the date. August 23, 1983.

"The same day your husband died. Was he a patient there?" Donald asked.

"No. He wasn't. He was killed in a freak accident while he was changin a tire on his truck. It exploded in his face and killed him instantly. At least, that's what I was told."

"And you don't believe that's what happened?" Donald asked.

"I don't know. When I first saw that check, I thought maybe Daddy lost a bet or somethin. And then I found these." She laid the other three checks on the table in front of them; same amount, same date only each one a year apart; the first two were made out to the Kinesen Institute and the last two to a Dr. Charles Peterson.

"And this Dr. Peterson?" Donald asked.

"Used to be in charge of the Kinesen Institute before it got shut down." Lureen answered.

"That doesn't necessarily mean anything," Donald said, "He could just have been a friend of your father's who benefited from his charity."

"I have never known my father to as much as put in dollar in a Salvation Army kettle at Christmas. There are no records of any charitable contributions ever other than these."

"He made four contributions of fifty thousand dollars each starting with the date of your husband's death. That's a lot of money," Timothy said.

"Maybe he just wanted to support this Institute and this particular doctor's work." Donald said.

They all went silent then while their drinks were placed before them. Once the waiter was gone Lureen continued.

"The clinic was in Dallas. I hired a private investigator there. I paid him ten thousand dollars and in six weeks and all he came up with is that the Kinesen Institute was a re-orientation clinic that specialized in curin homosexuals, supposedly."

"I see." Donald said as the information sank in. "And you want me to find out if your father was gay?"

"No. That's not it at all. It's somethin far worse than that." Lureen countered after taking a sip of her drink. "My father wasn't gay. In fact, he hated gays with a passion."

"What has all this got to do with your husband and his death?" Timothy asked.

"If he wasn't gay, why was he supporting a place like that?" Donald asked. "And why was the place closed down?"

"I have a hundred questions just like those, Mr. Strachey. That's why I need your help."

"You came all the way to Albany, NY just for my help? Wasn't there anyone in Dallas or Childress that could help?"

"No one in Childress, that's for sure. I tried that one guy in Dallas and he really wasn't interested in pursuin the matter. I was about to give up when I heard a couple or women talkin about you at a political fund raiser I attended there."

"Talking about me?" Donald asked.

"Yes; you and Mr. Callahan." She blushed and lowered her eyes. "They were talkin about a rally they had attended in New York City and commentin on Mr. Callahan and his … husband the private detective."

"I see. And you thought that since we're gay that we'd jump at the chance to out your father?" Donald sighed with disgust.

"NO, Mr. Strachey. That's not what this is all about. I guess I'm not makin myself clear here."

"What exactly is it all about then?" Timothy asked.

"The Kinesen Institute was closed down when it was found out that they were holdin people there against their will; that people were bein put there by family members for this treatment and not being released. They were usin unauthorized shock treatments and basically brain washin techniques that are illegal in this country."

"And…" Donald prompted.

"And I'm wonderin if maybe … maybe my husband was stuck in that clinic and maybe still alive somewhere being held against his will by that Dr. Peterson."

They both stared at her as though she had just grown a second head.

"Your husband was gay?" Timothy asked.

"Didn't you see your husband's body after he was pronounced dead?" Donald asked at the same time.

"I don't know if he was gay or not; I just know that Daddy always called him such awful names and hated him from the day they first met. And no, I didn't see Jack's body. They told me it was in too bad a shape. Daddy was the one who identified him and before I knew what was happenin, he had had the body cremated and it was all over with." She stopped and took another sip of her drink.

"You're thinking that your father might have put your husband in that place and paid this money to have him kept there? Then whose body got cremated?" Timothy asked.

"Would your father have done something like that?" Donald asked.

"I don't know. I didn't think so but he was always just vile with Jack."

"This could all just be a coincidence." Donald said as he handed her back the checks.

"It could be; but then explain this." She handed Donald Jack's death certificate.

"What about it?" Timothy asked. Then Donald pointed to the doctor's name who signed it. Charles Peterson.

"Oh my!" Timothy gasped and adjusted his glasses.

"Dr. Peterson is out of Dallas; why was he called in to sign a death certificate for someone who died in Childress?" Lureen asked.

"Things do look a pretty fishy," Donald admitted and handed her back the paper. "What exactly is it you want me to do?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe you might know. I mean, I've got to find out one way or another." Lureen insisted.

"I don't know how much I can do from here in Albany but I could make a few inquires; see if I can find out anything about this Dr. Peterson."

"Oh could you? I'd be so grateful. I just didn't know where to turn. I spoke to the police in Dallas and they thought I was nuts; and that detective I hired wasn't worth spit. If you could look into this for me, it would take a load off my mind. I mean, I can't rest until I've done everythin I can. If they've got my poor Jack locked up somewhere, I've just got to find him."

"OK. I'll take the job. But you may not like what I find out." Donald said then added, "My fees are …" That's all he got out before Lureen cut him off.

"Here's a retainer." She wrote him out a check and handed it to him. Timothy's eyes went big as he saw all the zeros. "Needless to say, this is most urgent to me. If you could set aside whatever else you're workin on and work solely on this case I can make it worth your while. If we need to go to Texas or Wyomin, I can arrange that and of course, take care of all expenses incurred."

"Wyoming?" Donald asked.

"In case you want in question … anybody. That's where Jack's from. His parents live there and he has … friends there." Lureen answered as she tucked her checkbook back into her purse.

The waiter brought their meals then and they busied themselves eating and concentrating on small talk. After dinner they drove Lureen to her hotel and dropped her off.

"So when do you think you will be able to start on this?" She asked as Donald walked her to the front door of her hotel.

"I'll make a few phone calls in the morning and see what I can come up with on this Dr. Peterson and I'll call you."

"Thank you, Mr. Strachey." She shook his hand then waved to Timothy still in the car, "Nice meetin you, Mr. Callahan."

Timothy said his goodbye and was deep in thought by the time Donald got back into the car and headed towards home.

"So what do you think, Timothy? You think there's anything there or is she just some rich nut?"

"Oh I believe she's sincere, Donald. Whether or not her father was crazy enough to try something like that is anybody's guess. It has been done before as we well know."

"That's about what I was thinking. I'll check this Dr. Peterson out in the morning and see if we have a case."

"I certainly hope so. That check will cover a lot of our remodeling expense."

"You know if there's nothing there, I'll have to give it back to her."

"Yes, Donald, I know." He reached over and caressed his husband's thigh. "That's why I love you so much."

The next morning Donald placed a call to Timothy's cell. He was just leaving a meeting and took the call in the hall way. "Hey, Donald. Did you find out anything?"

"I did. Is there anyway you can get some time off?"

"You mean for lunch?"

"I mean for the next couple of weeks?"

"Couple of weeks? We're going to Texas?" Timothy stopped in the middle of the hallway as people surged by him towards the elevators.

"We are. See if you can get two weeks. I'm giving myself that much time. If we don't come up with anything solid by then; we'll give it up."

"I'll speak to the boss lady and see what she has to say. She was talking about taking some time off herself."

"Sounds good. Look, I gotta call our Texas Belle and let her know what I found."

"Wait – What did you find?"

"Dr. Peterson lost his license to practice three years ago when he was found guilty of helping someone to fake their own death."

"Oh dear,"

"Oh dear is right. If he's running a clinic somewhere, it's illegal as hell."

"I'll finish up here and call you."

"Great. Love you, Timothy."

"Me too, Mr. Strachey."

XXXX

"Hello?" Lureen answered sleepily as she fumbled for the phone.

"Mrs. Twist? Donald Strachey. I have some news for you."

"All ready? My goodness that was fast. What time is it anyway?" She sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes.

"10:30, Ma'am."

"Oh please; stop with the 'ma'am' thing, will ya? I'm not that old! My name's Lureen." She lit a cigarette and drew deeply on it.

"Sorry, Mrs. … er …Lureen. I do have some information though that I think you'll be interested in. Shall I come over there or would you rather meet in my office?"

"Oh Lord! It's not bad news is it? I can't take bad news this early in the mornin; I haven't even had a cup of coffee yet."

"I think we need to take a little trip to Texas."

"Really? Oh that's good news then. That means you've found somethin."

"A lead, yes. And I think it would be best to be there in Texas to follow up on it. When would you like to leave?"

"As soon as possible. Albany it too darn cold for me! Let me get myself together and I'll call the airport and make the reservations."

"Can you make them for three?" Donald held his breath. It was asking a lot for a client to pay for his husband to go along but Timothy always managed to be a great help; if nothing else, a sounding board to bounce ideas off of. He would have made a great detective himself if he hadn't gone into politics.

"Certainly. That's not a problem. First stop Dallas or Childress?"

"Dallas. We'll need to spend a day or two there."

"Dallas it is. I'll make hotel reservations as well."

"All right. You have my number. Call me and let me know when we leave."

"I do and I will. Thank you so much, Mr. Strachey!"

"Donald; call me Donald."

"Yes, all right then, Donald. I'll be callin you shortly."

Three hours later they were sitting in the first class section heading for Texas. Donald and Timothy were sitting side by side and Lureen sat facing them; her purse in the seat next to her.

"Why don't you tell us about your husband, Mrs … er …Lureen. What was he like? How long were you married?" Donald asked once they were in the air.

"We were married eighteen years when all this happened." She answered as she removed her gloves and placed them in her purse.

"Eighteen years; and your father hated him all that time? He never said why he hated him?" Donald asked.

"Daddy hated him first time I brought him to the house. But then, he hated most of my boyfriends. Momma liked him. She never said; but I could tell."

"Eighteen years? You must have married very young." Timothy said.

She smiled sweetly at him, "We were both very young. He was 21 and I had just turned 20. I was still in school but we had a baby on the way so; well I'm sure you know how it is. It was hard goin the first few years until I got my degree. Daddy owned this farm machinery business; you know, tractors, combines, that sort of thing. I talked him into givin Jack a job and he did so reluctantly. He bitterly resented it when Jack started doin so well. Jack was a natural born salesman and friendly as all get out and did really well. 'Fore long, he was out-sellin Daddy and that gave him somethin else to hate Jack for." She stopped long enough to pull out a cigarette and light it. She inhaled and blew a stream of smoke up to the ceiling.

"Your father never gave you a clue as to why he hated him; nothing definite?" Donald asked.

"No. He just always made cracks about Jack's man hood; called him 'that rodeo fairy'. I never understood why. I figured it was just because he didn't think he was good enough for me. Daddy was always settin up meetins with sons of his friends; trying to pair me off but I wasn't havin none of that. I met Jack rodeoin and first look at him and I was in love. He's a real looker, my Jack."

"I hate to ask you this; but did you have any reason to suspect that your husband might have been gay?" Donald asked as tactfully as he could.

Lureen stared at him for a moment and answered as honestly as she could. "Not really; no."

"You hesitated there. Is there something you're reluctant to discuss?"

"No, it's not that. It's just that I don't really know. When we first got together, it was wonderful, perfect in fact. But then I started getting sick all the time; it was a difficult pregnancy and after the baby was born, well, we just sort of slacked off if you know what I mean. I figured it would get goin again once I got my figure back and felt better and all but it just never did seem to get back to the way it was in the beginnin."

The two men listened intently as she went on with her story.

"Daddy always referred to Jack as 'that little queer' or 'the rodeo fairy' right from the beginnin. I think he figured that Jack was after money but Jack never was like that. Money never meant anythin to him. He would get these big bonusus for selling the most and he'd just stick it in the bank. I gave him all sorts of credit cards and he hardly ever used them."

"So the two of you were perfectly happy in the marriage?" Timothy asked.

"Well now I wouldn't say that; not exactly." She crushed out her cigarette.

Timothy and Donald exchanged glances.

"How, not exactly?" Donald asked.

"Jack drank a lot; a whole lot. And I never could figure out why. I mean he had a good job, lots of money that he didn't seem to even care about. We had a beautiful home and a beautiful son. We didn't have any problems either; I mean, we never argued or anything; he was always just the sweetest thing. What would make a man drink like that all the time?"

"He was an alcoholic?" Donald asked.

"No; not really. And he wasn't one of those mean drunks either. He'd just spend evenings in his study and drink. Right after dinner every night he'd just hole himself up in there and not come out until bed time; just drinkin beer after beer after beer. He was never mean to me or Bobby, never raised a hand to either of us. He never missed a day's work. He was a good man; everyone loved him."

"Everyone except your father." Timothy offered.

"Exactly. And he didn't just dislike him; he hated him." She continued.

"Do you think that's why your husband drank? Because of your father?" Donald asked.

"No, I don't. Jack would always let Daddy's crude remarks just slide over him; like it didn't mean nothin. Only time he ever got upset was if Daddy started up in front of Bobby. He didn't do that all that often though; 'cause he knew Jack wouldn't take it."

"And you have no idea at all why your father assumed your husband was gay?"

"No, I don't."

"Any possibility that he saw something; something that might make him think your husband was interested in other men?" Donald asked.

"Not that I'm aware of."

"What about your husband's friends? Was there anyone special that he hung out with? Maybe spent a little too much time with?"

"No. He had no close friends in Childress. Mostly just the guys he worked with."

"Anywhere else?" Timothy asked.

"He had one friend up in Wyomin. They've known each other years and years. They used to go huntin and fishin together. He's the only close friend that I know of. The others were all just drinkin buddies."

"What do you know about this guy from Wyoming." Donald asked. "Have you ever met him? Did your husband ever say anything about him being gay? Maybe your father figured he was guilty by association?"

"No, he never did say." She looked off out the window and was quiet for a while.

Donald waited a few minutes then asked, "There's something about this guy from Wyoming; what is it you're leaving out?"

"I don't know, Donald; like I said, I never met him."

"But?" Donald prompted her.

"There was somethin; I don't know if it was him or what, but whenever Jack was gettin ready for a trip up there; he'd quit drinkin and he seemed really happy."

"So there is the possibility then that the two of them were …" Timothy stopped when he couldn't come up with a kind way to put it.

"They only saw each other a couple times a year." She explained.

"And when he came home afterwards how was he, still happy? Sad? What?" Donald asked.

"That's when the drinkin was the worst. He said it was just all the drivin but he would really drink an awful lot right after he got home." She looked from one to the other of them. "What are you thinkin?"

"Nothing yet. It's still too early. We're just trying to come up with some reason why your father hated him so much."

"Maybe it was the drinking?" Timothy offered. "Was your father a teetotaler?"

"Oh God, no! If he was he'd never had married my mother. She loved her gin and he drank right along with her though he was a bourbon man himself."

"What did your husband drink?" Timothy asked and earned a frown from Donald.

"Mostly beer except when he got home from one of those trips then it was whiskey. He'd drink a whole lot for the first week or two then he'd go back to his eight or ten beers a night."

"We've got a long flight ahead of us. Why don't try and nap a little." Donald said.

"I think that's a fine idea." Lureen said and stood up and went to a seat in the back, leaned her seat back and dozed off.

"What was that about the drinking?" Donald asked Timothy.

"That's it. Don't you see, Donald? It's clear as a bell. Jack and this guy in Wyoming were getting it on. He'd come back home and drink himself silly for a while then go back to his normal routine of just beer. The guy normally drank beer because he liked beer. He drank whiskey when he got back to numb himself, to get drunk; either out of guilt or sadness or whatever. This guy was in pain. If he wasn't an alcoholic he was well on his way to becoming one."

"You really think he was having an affair? Only seeing the guy a couple times a year?"

"Maybe that's all the other guy could get away; maybe he's married too." Timothy answered.

"Looks like we might need a side trip going to Wyoming." Donald said and put his seat back and kissed Timothy on the cheek. "Get some rest."

"Yes; of course. Good idea." Timothy took his glasses off, folded them and put them in his pocket. Then lowered the back of his seat and rested his head against Donald's; and dozed off.

XXXX

That evening they sat in the Hyatt Regency Hotel's restaurant discussing the case.

"Have you come up with any ideas at all? Where on earth are you even going to start?" Lureen asked.

"First thing in the morning I start working on tracing this Dr. Peterson. If we can find him maybe we can find out why your father was giving him fifty thousand a year."

"Is that possible? I mean, he'll probably just deny it, won't he?" Lureen asked as she sipped her water.

"If I can find where he's working right now; I might be able to get inside and get a look at his files."

"Oh; can you do that?" Lureen was impressed.

"Let's just say this sort of thing has been done before and it's not out of the realm of possibility." Donald answered her.

"Oh my goodness. Well, if you could do that; maybe you could check and see if he has a file on my husband?"

"That's the plan. Why don't you give me your husband's full name and your father's as well. I'll check for records of transactions with both of them."

"This is so excitin!" Lureen exclaimed as she gave the information and Donald wrote it down in his notebook. "It's just like a movie or somethin."

"Except that these are real people and if you get caught snooping around, it'll be real bullets that's being fired at you!" Timothy warned them both.

Lureen sat wide-eyed saying nothing; Donald gave his husband the old don't-worry-about-me-I-can-take-care-of-myself look.

XXXX

It took a lot of digging but by noon Donald had the address of the clinic where Dr. Peterson was currently working and an appointment for two o'clock that afternoon.

"Don't worry, Timothy. You won't have to say a thing. Just sit there and look angry."

"Well that should be no problem judging from my current state of mind. Isn't there any other way?"

"I'm not going to leave you there; this will just be an introductory meeting; to scope the situation out. Who knows; maybe this guy has cleaned up his act and gone straight."

Donald grinned.

"Very funny, Donald. You won't be laughing when you come back and find me with electrodes strapped to my head. I could come out of there longing for Dolly Parton instead of Donald Strachey; did you ever think of that?"

"I told you I'm not leaving you and I won't; that's a promise. You'll just have to sit there looking gorgeous and pout. You know how I love it when you pout."

"I do not pout, Donald Strachey." Timothy pouted and straightened his glasses.

"Of course not. You sit and think with a sad look on your face."

"There's a big difference in thinking and pouting." Timothy argued as the rental car neared the location of the clinic.

"Absolutely. And you look adorable doing it. Thinking, I mean." Donald turned the car into the lot and cut the engine.

"I'm scared." Timothy said as Donald got out of the car.

"I'll be right there with you every step of the way. Just remember this is only a reconnaissance mission. We just want get a look at his set up and if the opportunity presents itself; a look at his files."

Timothy followed him into the building with a deep frown on his face.

"That's good, Timothy. I like that look. Act like you didn't want to come and this is the last place you want to be." Donald whispered as they were exiting the elevator on the fourth floor.

"That won't be acting, Donald. This is the last place I want to be right now."

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you when we get back to the hotel. I promise."

"Oh well, in that case; I'll give you my very best performance." Timothy assured him as they walked down the hall towards room 411.

"And I'll give you mine when we get back to the hotel." Donald grinned then poked Timothy in the ribs. "Pout!" he ordered under his breath as he opened the door and they walked into the outer offices of Dr. Peterson.

Ten minutes later they were escorted into an inner office where they sat and waited for the appearance of Dr. Peterson. Timothy sat with his arms folded across his chest and stared angrily at the floor. Donald paced the floor nervously; eyes taking in everything in the room, including entrances and exits. He hadn't seen any filing cabinets yet and was beginning to wonder where the records were actually kept.

After another ten minutes of waiting, a short balding man in his 60s entered the room and took a seat behind the desk. "I'm Dr. Peterson; how may I be of assistance to you?" He reached out and shook hands with Donald who introduced him self as Kenneth Stern and his 'brother' as Joseph. Timothy just kept his seat and refused the doctor's hand.

"I'm sorry about that," Donald apologized.

"That's quite all right. My assistant said that you were aware of my work and wanted to discuss a possible placement." His eyes drifted over to Timothy and back to Donald's.

"Yes. You see, my brother here has a little problem."

"I don't have any problems. You're the one with the problem." Timothy countered angrily.

"Joseph you promised Momma!"

"I know. I said I'd come and I'm here."

Donald sighed and continued. "Our mother heard about you from a friend of a friend; that sort of thing, you know?"

"Yes indeed. Most of our clients are here on referrals." Dr. Peterson was most understanding.

"Good. Well, can you tell me anything about how this works? How long it takes and does it stick? I mean, can you cure him for good?"

"I'm afraid you'll have to be a little more specific about what it is your want before I can give you any further information."

"Of course." Donald fumbled for words.

"I'm queer." Timothy stood up and announced. "And the family can't seem to accept that. They want you to 'fix' me."

"Now, Joseph …" Donald stood up and went to his 'brother'.

"This is so stupid, Kenneth. There is nothing wrong with me. I like who I am. Why can't you just let me be?"

Donald soothed his 'brother' and got him to sit back down and then returned to his seat in front of the doctor's desk.

"Can you really … you know … fix him?" Donald asked.

Dr. Peterson sat with his hands steepled and leaned back in his chair. "It is possible; but it's not a quick fix and it's not cheap."

"Well, money's not a problem. Mother is willing to spend her entire inheritance to fix him. We just need some kind of assurance that he can be, you know, fixed." He leaned closer and said the last low enough for only the doctor to hear.

"Of course, I understand but you must understand that there are no guarantees in life. Medical science has come a long way in treating these unfortunate cases but it is not yet perfected. Our work here is entirely experimental which is why it is not covered by any insurance programs at the moment."

"What does it take to get started? I promised I wouldn't leave him today." Donald lowered his voice again and continued. "I can bring him back later; maybe you could give me something to give him to … calm him down?"

"There will be forms to fill out; he'll need a complete physical to make sure he is physically able to accept out treatments; and of course there will be an admittance fee."

"Yeah, sure; whatever. That's not a problem. You just give me the figure and I'll have Momma write out the check. I can bring it later … when we come back. Will that be all right?"

"Of course. And how long were you thinking his stay might be?"

"Well you see, we got this big wedding coming up in four months. We need him either cured by then; or we need to be assured that he will not show up; if you know what I mean."

"I understand. Involuntary commitment is always a little more difficult and a little more expensive." The doctor offered; sizing up his new client's pocket book.

"That won't be a problem. We just need to make sure this wedding goes off all right without any complications. We've got a lot riding on this."

"Of course. Why don't I turn you back over to my assistant and she can get the paperwork for you. You can fill it out and bring it back with you when you bring him in. I'll get you a little something to help him relax."

They stood up and Timothy stood up too, "What's all the whispering about? Can we go home now? I've got plans for this afternoon."

"Yes of course, Joseph. I just need to pick up some paperwork and we'll be on our way."

They went into the outer office and they both kept an eye on the assistant and watched which door she went through to get the paperwork. "File room." Donald whispered with a smug smile.

"Hotel room; here we come," Timothy answered with a lecherous raise of his eyebrows.

Later in the hotel room Timothy lay naked and exhausted as Donald sat at the desk and thumbed through the paper work. "You know, this is all just standard information; nothing at all useful." He stopped at the last page, "Except maybe for this."

"What is it?" Timothy asked and reached for his glasses on the night stand.

"The location for patient drop off."

"What's so interesting about that?"

"It's between ten and midnight only." Donald answered.

That evening as they sat in the restaurant awaiting their meal, Donald gave Lureen his report.

"But I don't see what you hope to accomplish here?" She asked. "Surely you're not going to admit Timothy."

"No, of course not. But now we know where their file room is. Tonight, I go in and take a look."

"We go in." Timothy corrected him.

"No; I go in. You need to stay out of this, Timothy. If I get caught, I'll need you to come bail me out."

"Let him go," Lureen interrupted. "He'll look after you; be a look out or somethin. It's always safer if you have someone to watch your back."

They both looked up at her.

"I watch a lot of TV," she smiled. "If you get caught, you call me. I'll get you out."

"OK. It's all set then. We both go." Donald agreed, knowing he was going to be over-ruled anyway.

"And you'll call me the minute you find anythin?" Lureen insisted.

"Absolutely." They both agreed then dug into their meal as it was placed before them.

After dinner they parted with Donald reminding Lureen to be sure and make their reservations to fly to Childress first thing the next morning.

"Are you sure about this?" Timothy questioned as he and Donald made their way up the fire escape.

"That's the way it usually works in Albany. I don't know if it works the same in Dallas or not."

They topped out at the roof and made their way over to the door and tried it. It was locked.

"So much for that bright idea." Timothy said.

"Don't worry about it. I expected it to be locked. It's much easier picking a lock from up here and much less likely to be seen." Donald worked his little device in the lock and it popped open. He smiled at Timothy.

"You're marvelous, Donald." Timothy smiled.

"I know; I keep telling you that." Donald said as they made their way inside the dark building; down the stairs until they came to the fourth floor. Donald peered through the small window in the door into the hallway dimly lit with the building's night lights.

He worked his magic and the door opened. Down the hall to the doctor's office they crept; heads swiveling in all directions to make sure they weren't seen. The office door opened just as easily and Donald headed for the file room.

"Stand by the door and keep an eye out. I'll be right back."

Timothy did as he was told and Donald hurried into the file room. The files were locked but it was a standard lock and easy enough to get in. He held his pen light between his teeth as he thumbed thought the files until he located the T section. There is was in the back. Twist, Jack. He pulled it out and opened it. One piece of paper only. Standard form with the notation that he was admitted by L.D. Newsom. Admission – involuntary.

He looked around and saw a copy machine in the corner. He copied the paper, both sides, then replaced it in the file and locked the cabinet. He picked up his copies and headed out.

"What were you copying, Donald? Did you find something?" Timothy asked as Donald came out and they headed back down the hallway towards the stairs.

"Yeah, Jack Twist was a patient of his all right." C'mon; let's get out of here.

They rang Lureen's room as soon as they got back to the hotel and she insisted they come right over. She was still up and desperate to see what they had found.

"This doesn't tell us much of anythin," Lureen was disappointed.

"No, nothing specific but it does tell us that your husband was a patient and that your father had him admitted against his will." Donald pointed out. "See the admittance date?"

It was written a little sloppily but you could make it out all right. August 23, 1983.

"Oh my God! Oh my God!" she paced the floor, "This is proof! We've got to do somethin, we've got to call the police, have him arrested!"

"No just hold on a minute. You go bringing the cops in it now and that gives him plenty of time to cover his tracks." Donald said.

"And it jeopardizes our safety. Donald and I would have to admit that we broke into the doctor's office." Timothy added.

"Oh, we can't do that! What can we do then?" Lureen was beside herself.

"Oh crap! I screwed up." Donald exclaimed as he paced the floor.

"What?" Timothy and Lureen asked at the same time.

"We have to go back." Donald said.

"To Albany?" Lureen asked.

"To the doctor's office? Please don't tell me we have to go back to the doctor's office." Timothy begged.

"We have to go back to the doctor's office." Donald said reaching for his coat.

"I asked you not to tell me that, Donald." Timothy said as he grabbed his coat as well.

"Well … are we still leavin in the mornin?" Lureen asked as they made their way out the door.

"Yes!" they answered in unison.

"So why are we going back to the doctor's office?" Timothy asked as their rental car headed out.

"Jack Twist's file told us nothing at all that we could go on. He's supposedly dead, his father-in-law is dead. We have to find out where the records are kept."

"I thought that's what we just did?"

"I didn't dig deep enough."

"You're talking about Jack's actual medical records?"

"That's right. All we found was the admission form. There must be some records concerning his treatment."

"Wouldn't they have been in his file?" Timothy reasoned.

"I'm betting those kinds of files are kept someplace else; probably at the good doctor's home."

"So you're hoping to find Dr. Petersonon's home address?"

"Exactly."

"How are you going to explain a visit over there at this time of night?"

"I'm not."

"Oh Donald. You're not breaking into a house when the people are actually home?"

"Let's just see what we can find out. You know you didn't have to come along. You could have waited back at the hotel."

"Not on your life, Donald Strachey! I'm in this with you all the way and you know it."

"Well then don't worry about it. We'll be careful, I promise."

Once inside the office again they searched the doctor's desk.

"Nothing," Donald said drumming his fingers on the desk top trying to think.

"What about his secretary's desk?"

"Why would she have anything with his home address on it?"

"You never can tell about secretaries, Donald." Timothy said as he went into the outer office and started rifling through the drawers.

"Eureka! He exclaimed and held up a receipt.

"What's that?"

"Receipt from a florist; roses to be delivered to Mrs. Gloria Peterson on their twelfth wedding anniversary. Here's your address." He handed the paper over to Donald.

"Wonderful, Timothy! I knew there was a reason I was keeping you around." Donald grabbed him in a hug.

"And I suppose my sparkling personality and my ass had nothing at all to do with it." Timothy pouted and shoved his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

Donald slipped back into the file room and made a quick copy of the receipt and returned the original to the desk drawer.

"Maybe just a little." He said grabbing a quick feel as they headed back out into the hall and made their way back out into the night.

"You think you can find it?" Timothy asked as they drove.

"I'm going to try. We passed a street sign on the way over with that same name. I figured we'd just drive over and see what we could see. Most doctors that I know live in big old two story houses. Remember that doctor's place up in Watertown?"

"You mean that old Victorian? That was a beautiful place all right; that was old money and lots of it."

"I'm hoping it will be something like that; you know, lots of landscaping, lots of places to hide. I'm betting the bedrooms are up stairs and his office or study will be down stairs. Maybe we'll get lucky and we can just slip in through a window or something."

"You don't think he'll have a burglar alarm or watch dogs or something?"

"Could be. We won't know until we get there. Look; here's the turn off. What's the number?"

"3512. You've got a couple blocks to go yet. We're in the 3800 block."

"Have I told you how much I enjoy working with you, Timothy?"

"A time or two; if I remember correctly. You do remember that this will be the third time tonight that we've 'broken and entered'?"

"This is no time for pillow talk, Timothy. Keep your eye out for the house numbers."

Timothy gave him an exasperated look and kept his eye on the houses passing by in the darkness. "We should be coming up on it shortly. It's on your side of the street."

"There it is. Bingo! Lots and lots of shrubbery. That's what I like."

"I don't see any lights on at all." Timothy said.

"OK. You stay here and watch the house. If you see any lights go on up stairs, honk the horn then duck down so they don't see you if they look out. I'll hear it and get out."

"Promise me you'll leave the minute you hear me honk!"

"I will, I promise. Don't worry so much." Donald got out of the car as quietly as he could and made his way through the bushes.

Timothy lost him in the darkness after just a few minutes and hoped that anyone watching might just think they stopped to take a leak in the bushes. At least that was the story we was planning to tell if anyone saw them and started asking questions. He sat in the darkness and waited. He rolled his window down and listened. Nothing but the normal night time sounds. There didn't seem to be any dogs in the neighborhood; at least none that were out and about. He looked at his watch and waited.

Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes went by and Timothy was about to come unglued when he caught a glimpse of Donald making his way back through the shrubbery towards the car.

He pushed the door opened and Donald hopped in. "Did you find anything? Anything at all?"

Donald reached inside his jacket and pulled out a thick file folder.

"You got it!" Timothy exclaimed. "You're a genius!" He nuzzled kisses on the side of Donald's face.

"I'll give you just two hours to cut that out," Donald grinned as he started the car and headed back to the hotel.

"What's in it; did you see?"

"No; I didn't want to push my luck any more tonight. They did have a burglar alarm but it was one of those old cheap things and easy enough to by-pass. Once I got inside it was a piece of cake. I just saw that fat file with Jack Twist's name on it, grabbed it and got out of there. We can look it over after we get back to the hotel."

"I love you Donald Strachey Private Detective; have I told you that lately?"

"Not in the last hour or so. I was beginning to worry." Donald grinned as they headed back to the hotel.

The first several pages were lists of time, dates and medicines that were given to Jack. By the time they got through them their eyes were starting to blur and they decided they would catch a few hours sleep before their early flight in the morning.

They split the file up three ways and each one read over theirs very carefully during the flight; hoping they might come across a location where they were holding him.

"I just can't believe this," Lureen moaned when they quit for a lunch break. "I can't believe Daddy would do somethin like this!"

"I thought you said he was capable of this sort of ting." Donald asked as he sipped his coffee.

"He was! I just never thought he'd actually do somethin like this though; not to me; his only child!"

"Maybe he thought it was for your own good," Timothy offered.

"How can takin my husband from me be for my own good?" Lureen sniffed and wiped angrily at a tear that threatened her perfectly made up face.

"Maybe he thought you deserved someone better," Donald said.

"I loved Jack. I know I wasn't the perfect wife, not the kind of wife I could have been; but I did love him. I still do and if he's out there somewhere; I'm goin to find him." She lit a cigarette with shaking hands.

"We'll do everything we can to find him but you should prepare yourself for the possibility that he might really be gone." Donald said.

"But these papers are dated long after he was supposedly dead; so that means he's still alive; doesn't it?" She asked hopefully.

"It means there's a chance he was still alive when those charts were filled out. There's also the possibility that these reports could be fake."

"Why would they make up fake reports?" Lureen asked.

"Maybe to keep the money coming in." Timothy answered.

The three of them looked at one another and thought about that.

"You didn't find anything in your father's papers mentioning Dr. Peterson?" Donald asked.

"I didn't get through all of them. I stopped when I found those checks. I know I should have kept lookin but I do still have a job and I was tryin to establish myself there as the new boss to everyone and not just the boss's daughter any more. There's a lot to do when you take over someone's business let alone their estate." She explained.

"Of course. You do have access to all his papers though?" Donald asked.

"I do. They are all there in his study; boxes and boxes of them. He wasn't the neatest person in the world nor was he all that good at keepin track of things. He's got the business and the personal all piled together and mixed up. It's a nightmare. As I said, I've been workin on it, off and on, for four months now tryin to straighten it all out. I was thinkin you might want to stay there at Daddy's place. That way you'd have access to all of it. Of course, I'll be available whenever you need me."

"That sounds great. Hopefully we can find something in his papers give us some idea which way to turn next."

"I just want to find my husband, Donald. That's all that matters to me."

"Lureen, you do realize that there is a possibility that your husband is or was gay?"

She took a deep breath and blinked back the tears. "Whatever he is; I want him back."

They were silent for a while then Timothy broached a question. "I wonder what would happen to him if he really was straight and still got all those treatments. How do you think it would affect someone?"

"I'm not a doctor, Timothy. I have no idea how these treatments could affect anyone gay or straight. All I know is they are illegal in this country and doubly so if they are doing it on people against their will." Donald said.

"I'll get him the best doctors money can buy. I'll take him anywhere he needs to go to get him whatever treatment he needs to get well." Lureen said.

"And if he is gay?" Timothy asked.

"If he is then it will be up to him to decide what he wants to do. It'll be his decision and not some doctor's."

"You love your husband very much." Timothy said and understood her pain.

"I do. I love him enough to let him go if he wants to leave. But I'm goin to do everythin in my power to talk him into stayin."

They finished the flight in silence and before long they were on the ground in Childress, TX. Lureen led the way out to the parking area and her car and drove them straight over to L.D.'s home.

"Whew, talk about posh!" Timothy whispered to Donald as they drove up into the circular driveway.

"Daddy's Cadillac is in the garage. The keys are in the desk drawer and you're welcome to use it while you're here."

"Thanks. That'll save the expense of renting a car." Donald turned to Timothy and raised his eyebrows. Timothy shook his head and grinned.

"You're not coming in?" Donald asked as he stood by the open car door.

"No; I'm goin on home. I'm exhausted. You two just make yourselves at home. You have my number. Call me if you dig up anythin." Lureen said and with a wave she took off down the driveway.

"Well, well. I'm liking Childress a lot better already!" Donald said as they walked into the plush foyer of the magnificent house.

"And you're getting paid to stay here! This is some racket you're running, detective!"

"Some of us got it and some of us don't!" Donald swung the keys around his fingers and headed for was looked like the study. He opened the two heavily carved doors and entered the study of the late L.D. Newsome; all done up western style with a wagon wheel chandelier overhead, steer horns mounted over the mantle and bronze statues of horses scattered about.

"Ugh," Timothy gave his opinion as he scanned the room in all its western splendor.

Donald laughed out loud, "So this is how rich Texans live?" He ran his fingertips over the steer horn and snickered.

"Oh God! I hope not!" Timothy said as he stared at a painting on the wall that depicted an ongoing battle between some cowboys and indians.

Donald started scanning the labels on the file boxes.

"Oh please, Donald. Do we have to start right this minute? Can't we at least unpack first?"

"This is it," Donald mumbled pulling a box out and taking it over to the desk. "Eh … you go ahead. I'll be right with you."

Timothy gave an exasperated sigh and picking up Donald's bag as well as his own; headed back into the foyer and up the stairs.

Hours later, Donald climbed into bed and snuggled up behind Timothy. "Find anything?" Timothy asked half asleep.

"Not yet. Looks like we've got our work cut out for us. The old man saved every single piece of paper that came across his desk that had his name on it."

"Maybe tomorrow," Timothy said sleepily.

They didn't find anything the next day or the next. Lureen was there the third day asking about leads.

"The only thing I've found out for sure is that you are right. On going over his last ten years of tax returns, he didn't make a single charitable donation until five years ago and that's claimed as Medical Research." Donald said.

"So where does that leave us?" Lureen asked lighting up another cigarette with her little gold lighter.

"I don't know. We're about out of leads. I guess it's back to Dallas to see if we can find and get into that clinic of Dr. Peterson's."

"You're NOT going to have me committed; are you? PLEASE tell me you're not going to ask me to do that!" Timothy was seriously concerned.

"No, sweetheart. I am NOT going to commit you. We already tried that gambit. We've got to come up with something else."

"They'll be wary if they've discovered Jack's file missing." Timothy warned.

"Oh God! Not back to Dallas. I used to love that City before all this; now it makes me sick to my stomach to think that Jack might have been locked away in some clinic there all this time." Lureen moaned.

"There's no need for you to come, if you'd rather not." Donald said. "We can call you if we come up with anything."

"No! I'm goin with you. That way if you two get into any trouble and I'll be there to bail you out." She mashed her cigarette out in the crystal ash tray on her daddy's desk. "At least you got this room cleaned up and organized." She glanced at the stacks of file boxes up against one wall; each one marked either BUSINESS or PERSONAL. As she headed for the door she said, "I'll make reservations for this evenin's flight to Dallas. That way you can get an early start in the mornin. Same hotel all right with you two? I've always liked the Omni."

"Yes; the Omni's fine." Donald said as he walked her to the front door. "I sure thought we'd come across something in all those papers."

"I was hopin we would but Daddy was a shrewd business man; sloppy in his record keepin, true; but he knew how to wheel and deal. If he was doin somethin illegal; he'd sure enough figure a way to keep me from finding out about it."

"Hopefully we can come up with something in Dallas." He smiled at her as she walked out the door.

"We will; I'm sure of it, Donald. I've got this feelin like somethin's gonna happen real soon."

"I hope you're right."

"I am; I just know it. I'll call you soon as I have the reservations.

"Is the Omni to your satisfaction, Donald?" Timothy mimicked Lureen and grinned as Donald came back inside.

"I'll say! Their room service is great, their food is great and their beds are comfortable and they don't squeak; what more could you ask for in a hotel? " Donald gave him a hug and sighed. "We'd better get packed."

XXXX

As they checked into the Omni, Lureen asked in the elevator, "Do you have any idea where you'll start this time?"

"I need to get another look at Dr. Peterson's private records."

"Oh dear. Well, I'll be by the phone in case you get arrested." Lureen said as she keyed the lock to her room and opened her door.

"I think we'll wait until tomorrow after he's gone to work." Donald said as he keyed his door right next to hers.

"Well call and keep me posted." Lureen disappeared into her room.

"We're going in in broad day light?" Timothy asked anxiously. "What about Mrs. Peterson?"

"If Mrs. Peterson is anything like the society ladies in Albany, she'll probably be heading out the door shortly after her husband leaves; either for shopping, or the beauty parlor or tea with the other rich ladies in town."

"Cleaning lady?"

"If there is one, I'll let you divert her."

"Oh yes. Well, I suppose I could do that. I could pretend to be selling something, I guess. Maybe ask to use the phone, or flirt with her or something."

"OK. Just be careful with the 'or something'."

"Oh Donald; please!" Timothy huffed. "And just what are you going to be doing while I'm 'entertaining' the cleaning lady?"

"You go in the front; I'll go in the back. I know where the study is and where the files are. It shouldn't take too long."

"What exactly are you looking for? I mean there isn't going to be a file marked 'Where I'm hiding Jack Twist'!"

"Smart aleck!" Donald tossed a rolled up pair of socks and got Timothy on the ear. "Personal financial records this time."

They finished unpacking and got settled in. Morning would be time enough to put their plan into action.

XXXX

The next morning Donald called Dr. Peterson's office to find out what time he would be in and was told nine o'clock. At eight forty-five they drove past his house just as he was backing his car out of the driveway. They stopped at the end of the street and waited. Sure enough, fifteen minutes later, a woman came out, got in her car and drove away.

"You are so smart, Donald. I don't want to know how you know so much about women's habits so please don't tell me." Timothy observed as Donald drove the car around the corner and hopped out beside the alley way. Timothy slid over into the driver's seat and drove on around the block. He parked in front of the Pinkerton house, walked up the driveway and rang the door bell and waited. He rang it a second and third time, then walked back to the car, climbed in and drove off down the street. He circled the block twice before Donald stepped out of the alley and hopped in as he pulled over.

"Any luck?" Timothy asked, disappointed when Donald appeared empty handed.

"Just the address of the Mary Louise Fetterman Clinic." Donald grinned.

"You think that's where Jack is?"

"All I know is that Dr. Pinkerton pays an enormous electric bill there every month. I can't imagine him doing that unless he owned the place; can you?"

"What next?" Timothy asked, the old adrenalin kicking in. "Are we going there now?"

"No. This is definitely an after-hours kind of job. We go in tonight after dark. Right now, I want to hit a convenience store and see if we can find a street map."

Lureen was beside herself with excitement. "I want to go with you!"

"No! This could be just another dead end. For all we know this Mary Louise Fetterman might be Peterson's mother or something. It could be totally legit."

"But you don't think it is; do you?" She asked.

"We won't know until we get there. I promise to give you a call the minute we know anything for sure."

"But what if you find him? He won't know you." Lureen insisted.

"Lureen, if he's been in that clinic for five years, chances are he won't know you either."

"Ohhh," Her face clouded up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to worry you but you've got to be strong here. If we do find him, he may not be in any condition to remember anything or anyone."

"Well what are you goin to do if you do find him?" She asked.

"That will depend on what condition he's in." Donald said.

She pulled out a tissue and dabbed her eyes. "He'll know me; his own wife!" she insisted.

"If they've been messing with his mind, he may not even know his own name. Do you have a photograph of him?"

"A photo? Why yes, I do. Here." She dug in her bag pulled a photo out of her wallet.

"That's good; thanks. Now Lureen, I want you to be thinking what you want to do if he's in need of medical help."

"I told you before; I'll get him the best possible help available."

"If he's in that clinic; I may be bringing him out tonight."

"Oh thank you, Donald! I'll never be able to thank you enough for what you're doin." She hugged him.

"He may not even be there so don't get your hopes up too high." Donald said as he untangled himself from her embrace.

"I won't. Just be careful now and call me the minute you find out anythin at all."

"We will," Timothy assured her as they left the hotel room and headed for their rental car.

An hour later they were climbing down the stairwell to the main floor.

"Shouldn't we be looking in some of these rooms? He could be anywhere. I had no idea the place would be this big." Timothy whispered.

"We could go room to room, floor to floor but that would take half the night. The best way is to get into the office and check the files. The office staff should be gone at this hour. There's probably no one but the nursing staff left for the night." Donald answered as they hit the ground floor.

He peered carefully through the small square window in the door. No one was in sight. He opened the door a crack and peered into the dimly lit hallway. It was empty.

"Maybe you should wait here." He said to Timothy.

"Not on your life!" Timothy insisted.

They came to the end of the short corridor and peeked around the corner into the larger main hallway. Off to the right there was a guard stationed near the front door talking on the phone.

Donald pointed up to the signs on the wall that had direction arrows for the different departments. It showed that the main office was to the left.

"OK, Timothy. I need you to stay here and keep an eye on the guard. I'll just dash down the hall and check the office out and see if I can find a file on Jack."

"But …"

"Don't worry." Donald said as he slipped his shoes off. "Here, hold these. He'll never hear me and I'll be back before you know it." And he took off down the hall in his stocking feet and disappeared around a corner.

Timothy stood and waited and kept an eye on the guard who must have been talking to his girlfriend as the conversation went on and on while he stood watching out the glass front door. Before he knew it, Donald was back.

"Room 311." Donald whispered as he slipped his shoes back on and they sprinted back down the smaller hallway to the stairs.

They climbed up to the third floor and stopped outside the door into the hallway to catch their breath.

"Timothy, time for a reality check. If they've done a real number on this guy for five years, he might not be more than a vegetable. If he's not capable of understanding that we're trying to help him, we may have to leave him here."

"Oh no, Donald! We can't leave him to these maniacs!" Timothy was horrified.

"Only until morning. Then we do it legit. We go for the law; explain that a confidential source told us he was being held here. We'll take Lureen with us and she can plead her case to the cops."

"You think that will do any good?"

"If it doesn't; then we have to hire us some muscle and maybe create a diversion of some kind, so we can get him out on our own."

"OK. Just promise me that we'll get him out of this place, one way or the other."

"You have my word, Timothy."

They entered the hallway on the third floor slowly, peeking around the corner. There was one nurse on duty and she had her ear phones on listening to music and reading a magazine. The numbers on the wall showed that room 311 was in the opposite direction and they weren't even going to have to pass the nurse's station.

They made their way down the hall and stopped in front of room 311. Donald tried the door and cursed. It was locked. He pulled his pick out and in a moment it clicked open and they slipped inside.

They crept around to the other side of the bed and Donald used his little pen light. He had to shine it on the wrist band to be sure. "It's him. OK. Here goes nothing."

He reached out and shook Jack's shoulder. "Jack? Jack Twist? Lureen sent me. Wake up."

"Huh?" The sleepy head turned towards them. "Go away. I'm sleepin."

"Jack Twist, Lureen's outside waiting for you. Come on; let's go see her."

"Who are you? You're not my doctor."

"Lureen sent us. She wants us to bring you to see her. You want to go see Lureen?"

"Don't know no Lureena. Go away."

Donald looked at Timothy and shook his head. Timothy decided to give it a try.

"Jack, do you want to leave this place? Do you want to go home?"

"Huh? Home? Don't have a home. This is home. I live here." Jack ran a hand through his unruly hair. "Go away now. It's time for sleep." He turned back over, away from them.

"Jack, would you like to go outside? We have a car. We could go for a ride."

"Gonna sleep now. Go way." Jack pulled the covers up over his ears and said no more.

Donald headed for the door and nodded his head for Timothy to follow.

"We can't leave him, Donald."

"What do you want to do, carry him out of here kicking and screaming? How far do you think we'll get?"

"What are you going to tell Lureen?"

"The truth. That it's time to call in the law." Donald said and they hurried back down the hall and out the door.

"Oh Donald. She's going to be so disappointed."

"She'll be happy to hear that we saw him and that he's still alive. His mind might be a little blank right now but she can afford specialists; maybe they can help him."

"I just hate leaving him there. I hate it!"

"I know, honey; I do too but right now it's our only choice. If the law won't do anything to get him out; there's always plan B."

XXXX

Lureen wailed and cried and cursed her father's miserable soul but in the end she agreed that they would have to wait until morning and go to the police. So the next morning the three of them loaded up all their paperwork and headed down to Police Headquarters. They requested a meeting with the Captain and after explaining their story to four different officers, they were finally allowed in to speak with him.

Donald introduced them, showing his PI license and laid out their story, along with their paper trail, filling in all the details except for the last night's adventures. That became something that a "confidential source" told them.

"You do realize that whatever information this 'confidential source' of yours came up with will be illegally obtained and cannot be used in court?" The Captain warned them.

"I realize that, Captain Richards, but isn't there enough other evidence to obtain a warrant? Then if we just happen to find Jack Twist during your search …"

"Well, I have to admit that if all your paperwork is legit, it certainly does look like this bastard, excuse me Ma'am, this 'doctor' is practicing again. It's going to take a while to check this all out. Leave me your phone number and I'll call you as soon as I find any thing out."

"We'll be sittin right out there in your waitin room!" Lureen insisted as they stood up to leave.

"It's going to take a couple of hours at least. There's a Starbucks just down the street. Why don't you go get yourselves some breakfast and I'll join you there as soon as I put my calls in. I was just about ready to head there myself."

"That sounds like a fine idea." Donald agreed.

"I want to thank you, Captain Richards, for agreein to help us find my husband." Lureen extended her hand and her sweetest smile.

"Well, we'll just see if we can rattle a few cages this morning and get us a warrant. Actually, I was in on the first raid that took Peterson down years ago. I remember the bas … a I remember him well. I never did believe in all that "Reorientation Therapy" bunk, myself. If a guys a queer, he's a queer and strappin electrodes to his brain and shockin the hell out of him doesn't do anything but make him a crazy queer. No offence, Ma'am."

And to Donald he added, "Strachey, I appreciate the fact that you came in here with all this information and let us handle the situation instead of trying to break him out of there yourself."

"Yes, well, I do always try to work within the law." Donald smiled and walked out the door.

"You man try but you seldom succeed." Timothy whispered as they walked out through the outer offices and headed down the street towards Starbucks. He got an elbow in the ribs from Donald.

Donald and Timothy ordered breakfast but Lureen just drank coffee and smoked cigarettes.

"I wonder what's takin so long?" She said as she stubbed out another cigarette. "It's been hours!"

"Actually, it's been an hour and fifteen minutes." Timothy said looking at his watch.

Lureen headed for the ladies room and was in there when Captain Richards arrived to join them. He ordered his usual, coffee and sweet roll, and was nibbling on that when Lureen returned to the table.

"Oh, thank goodness you're here! Did you get the search warrant?" Lureen asked, taking her seat at the table.

"It's on its way. I called Judge Riley; he's the same judge who presided on the Peterson case last time. He was only too happy to oblige. His office is sending it over. We should have it shortly."

"Oh, dear; oh my goodness; then we can just go in and get my husband?" She was all excited.

"I've got my people gearing up for a raid. We've got ten cars and twenty officers. We're taking Lt. Garcia along with us. He's just as excited as you are, Ma'am. You see, his brother was one of them Peterson experimented on years ago. He made it out alive but a year later he killed himself. So this is personal for him."

"That's fine with me; the more officers, the better. I don't care if you bring the whole damn force. I just want to get in there and find my husband."

"Of course, of course. Now we don't usually allow civilians along on this sort of thing but I think this time we can make an exception. I doubt there's going to be any gun play, this Peterson isn't the violent sort; and if you just happen to find your husband in there, well I can't see any reason why he couldn't be released into your custody."

"Can we leave now?" She urged.

"Not until I get the warrant in my hands." He shook his head and sipped his coffee. He no sooner sat his coffee cup down then said, "There it is now." They all looked up to see a young man heading their way carrying an envelope.

"Thanks, Jefferson." Captain Richards took the envelope and smiled. "This is it. Let's go."

They practically ran the block back to Headquarters. Squad cars were appearing out of nowhere and were massed in front. Lt. Garcia drove with Captain Richards up front and the three of them sat in the back seat. They had waited for so long and now that it was actually happening, it went fast.

They were in front of the clinic in no time, their cars circling the building with their lights flashing. No sirens were used; they didn't want to scare the patients and they weren't running 'hot' so they weren't necessary.

Richards, Garcia, Donald, Timothy, and Lureen walked through the front door and into the front offices of the frightened staff. Dr. Peterson wasn't there yet, he was at his office in town but was expected within the hour.

The first question Captain Richards asked was if they had a patient there by the name of Jack Twist. The clerks exchanged nervous glances and shook their heads yes. One of them said, "He's in 311."

Donald, Timothy and Lureen took off for the elevators and in moments were hurrying down the corridor with the attending nurse following them, insisting that they weren't allowed in there. They were arguing in front of 311 and Lureen was just about ready to grab the keys away from the nurse when Captain Richards came through the elevator doors. He showed his badge and asked for the keys politely. She handed them over meekly then hurried back to her nurse's station.

Captain Richards unlocked the door and they went in. Jack was sitting up in bed staring straight ahead. Lureen rushed to him, crying out, "Jack!" as she threw herself against his chest. He didn't move or acknowledge her in any way. "Jack, it's me!" she cried.

He simply sat there staring off into space; his blue eyes dilated to such an extent that you could barely see the blue ring around the black. Captain Richards snapped his fingers a few times in front of Jack's face. His head moved slightly but his eyes didn't focus on any of them.

"I don't know what they gave him but it must be pretty strong." He checked Jack's wristband, saw the name and asked Lureen, "Ma'am, is this your husband?"

"Yes, yes this is my Jack!" She sobbed.

"All right then; I suggest you call an ambulance and get them over here right away. I'll see to it that these nice people here sign the release papers and you can take him with you. I suggest you call the physc department over at Parkland Hospital. They're probably best to handle something like this. I take it you have insurance?"

"Yes, of course."

"Good; because that place isn't cheap but they've got some great doctors over there. I think that's your best bet for now."

"I'll do that right now. Donald, will you stay with Jack until I find a phone and make the call?"

"Here, Lureen. Use my cell."

An hour later the three of them were sitting in the waiting room at Parkland Hospital waiting while the Doctor's were evaluating Jack's condition. A news report came on the TV showing a raid taking place at a clinic on the south side of town. It showed Dr. Peterson being taken away in handcuffs. They grinned at one another.

They drank coffee and paced the floor for another two hours before the doctor in charge, Doctor Alberts, joined them and ushered them back into his office. There was good news and bad news. The good news was that Jack seemed to be in fine shape physically, though a bit thin. The bad news was that the drugs that he had been given were very strong and would take at least two to three days to flush entirely out of his system and until they were out, they couldn't tell how much, if any, damage was done to Jack's mind.

"Can't you just give him a shot or something to counteract those drugs?" Lureen asked.

"We have and he's responding well to them but they are slow acting. He is all ready beginning to show signs of coming around. He can now focus on things and people but he's still totally uncommunicative."

"Can I see him?" Lureen begged.

"Sure you can. We're getting him settled in a room right now. Please don't be upset if he doesn't recognize you. Right now his mind is a blank."

"But you can get it back for him; can't you? His memory, I mean?" Lureen asked.

"There's a good chance that we can; but we have no way of knowing, at this point, how much damage has been done."

Dramatic changes occurred during the next twenty four hours. Jack slowly roused as if in a long sleep; began pacing the floor of his room and asking questions. When Lureen, Donald and Timothy got back to the hospital the next day; Jack knew her and peppered her with questions. He was astounded to find out that five years had passed and he had little memory of what happened during that time.

Donald decided it was time for him and Timothy to head back to Albany but Lureen insisted that they stay long enough to help her take Jack back to Childress and they agreed that a few more days in the mild Texas weather would be rather nice; especially since they were getting paid for it and hadn't used up their two weeks yet.

Two days later, Jack insisted he was well enough to leave and they checked him out of the hospital and headed to Childress. He was appalled after hearing what his late father in law had done. He knew L.D. hadn't liked him but never realized just how much he was despised. He was sickened by the pain everyone had been put through and spoke long-distance to Bobby who was now in Officer's Training School for the Navy. Then he made a call to his parents and learned that his father has passed away. His mother was weeping so much during the phone call, they didn't get much said.

That accomplished, his first night back in Childress, he and Lureen had a long talk. He told her the truth about himself and that while he did love her, he was in love with someone else; someone up in Wyoming. He said he was moving back up there for good and would be living on his ranch, the Twist ranch, in Lightning Flat from now on and asked her to have her lawyers draw up divorce papers. She made the call and got their attorney working on them immediately. She would have to make sure all the paperwork was changed and have him declared legally 'alive' again and of course, return the insurance money she had received upon his 'death' five years ago but that was not a problem. She simply wrote out a check which her attorney would attach to a letter explaining the situation.

"But Jack, you're too weak to make that trip right now. Can't you give it a few more days?" Lureen begged as Jack stumbled around his room packing.

"No, Lureen. I need to go up there right now."

"OK, whatever. But I'm goin up there with you. I can't have you passin out on the plane

and endin up God knows where!"

"You don't have to do that, Lureen. I'm fine. Just a little weak is all. I'll get my strength back in no time with Momma's cookin."

"I know, but I'm going to see if I can get Donald and Timothy to go with us. They said they'd give me two weeks and we got a couple days left yet."

"I don't care, Lureen. Bring anyone along you want. I just want to be on the next plane for Wyomin."

XXXX

"Wyoming? You want us to go to Wyoming?" Timothy asked.

"Yeah, why not. He's heading up there to his Mother's place and Lureen's right, he is still too weak to travel alone."

"You already agreed to go, I take it?" Timothy said as he was packing, he thought for the trip home.

"Uh huh. Lureen plays the tough southern belle to the limit but underneath she's just a heartbroken woman who got her husband back after five years only to lose him again in a couple of days."

"You think that's why she wants to go with him; to spend more time with him; maybe change his mind?"

"Could be. But in her heart she knows she's lost him. She just wants to do her best by him and make sure he gets where he wants to be; it's the last thing she can do for him."

"That's so sad. I wonder if he's talked to his 'friend' up in Wyoming yet." Timothy asked.

"Yes, it is sad but I really admire the way she's handled things. She's quite a lady." Donald said.

"She certainly is." Timothy agreed and sat on the edge of the bed beside Donald. "You know, I was just thinking. With that money, we could get us a hot tub for out on the deck."

"A hot tub sounds great, Timmy, but we need to get the deck built first." He nuzzled kisses against Timothy's neck.

"I was thinking about that too. If we just bought the lumber and built the deck ourselves, we could get it done at practically half price and get the flag stones for the patio."

"That sounds like a lot of work and I had other plans for when we get back to Albany."

"Oh. Well; we still have two hours before we have to be at the airport." Timothy removed his glasses.

XXXX

The four of them sat in their rental car staring at the small trailer in spot number seventeen; Donald and Timothy in the front seat; Jack and Lureen in the back. All were silent.

"Donald, Timothy; thank you for giving me my life back." Jack said, patting each of them on the shoulder. "I trust you'll see Lureen safely back to Childress?"

"Absolutely, Jack." Donald said. "Good luck," Timothy added.

Jack sat for a moment holding Lureen's hand.

"I owe you my life, Lureen. How do I thank you for that?"

"Oh honey, you don't owe me a thing. You gave me eighteen years of your life, you gave me Bobby and all I gave you in return was … Daddy and his nasty mean mouth and …" She had to stop to dab at the tears that were threatening to spill. "I still can't believe that Daddy could do such a vicious thing!"

Jack squeezed her shoulder, "Be sure and tell Bobby that I'll call him again once I'm settled in."

"I will, I promise." She knew this was it and she wanted to say something significant but she couldn't think of anything. "Go on now."

Jack opened the door and turned back to her. "Thank you, Lureen. I do love you."

"I know, honey. I know. You take care now, ya hear." She reached out and pulled the door closed.

Jack touched the window then turned and walked over to the trailer and knocked.

The three of them sat and watched and waited. He knocked a second time before the door was opened. The person answering the door backed away too quickly for any of them to get a good look. Jack stepped up into the trailer and closed the door behind him.

That's when the tears came. She couldn't hold them back any longer; and the two in the front seat were struggling to keep theirs under control as well. They were both glad they had come; she was going to need company on her lonely trip home.

XXXX

Ennis cursed and flushed the toilet. "I can't even take a crap without somebody bangin on the damn door!" He groused as he pulled up his jeans and headed for the door. "Probably just somebody sellin somethin I don't want." He yanked the door open, ready to give whoever was there a piece of his mind for bothering him on a Friday night when he was about to go into town for his week's supply of beer.

Ennis took three steps backwards, up against the wall and stared; his mouth gaping open.

Jack stepped up inside, pulled the door closed behind him and turned the lock.

Ennis looked down quickly and stumbled over to the sink; standing there holding on. "You're not … you ain't Jack! Who are you?"

"It's me, Ennis."

"No it ain't! You're dead! Jack's dead!" Ennis snuck a quick look then looked away quickly.

"Lureen just found me, Ennis. Her daddy had me stuck away in some mental hospital."

"YOU AIN'T JACK! You ain't my Jack!" Ennis wouldn't look at him.

"L.D. is dead. She found some checks he had written to this crazy doctor in Dallas. She hired some private detectives out of New York. They found me."

"No, No! My Jack is dead. Dead and gone. You ain't him." Ennis held on to the edge of the sink to keep from falling; he was shaking like a leaf.

"Ennis, look at me."

"No. Go on now; get out of here. You ain't him. You ain't!"

Jack walked over to him, reached out and caressed the back of Ennis's neck. "It's me, Cowboy."

"No it ain't!" Ennis shoved the arm away. "You're dead! My Jack is dead!"

"I guess I shoulda brought my harmonica along and played you a tune. Then you'da known it was me for sure." Jack leaned back against the counter and grinned.

Ennis peeked over at him then and saw the smile.

"I signed all the papers. Lureen and me are divorced now; or will be as soon as the lawyer gets the paperwork to the judge. I saw my Momma this mornin. Pa's dead; died a few months ago. She's alone now. I'm movin in with her. It's a big place though. Sure could use some help. I guess I'll have to look into hirin someone. You know anyone who knows ranchin? I really need some help here."

Ennis stared at him then; now unable to take his eyes away.

"Can't run the place on my own." Jack went on. "I just got out of the hospital day before yesterday. They had me on some drugs that scrambled my mind up good. It took a few days to get all that shit out of my system but it's gone now and I can think straight again. I'm still pretty weak though."

"Jack is dead! You a cousin or somethin?" Ennis still couldn't believe what his eyes were telling him.

Jack rubbed a hand down over his face. "Ennis, I know you were told that I was dead. L.D. told Lureen the same thing. Hell, she even had a stone put up for me. She's got some ashes he told her were mine. They're havin them analyzed. Probably isn't anythin but somethin dug out of someone's fire place. It sure as hell ain't me."

"Jack, you been gone five years!"

"I been locked in a hospital room, Ennis; given shots every single day; scrambled my brains so I didn't know who I was half the time. I was so messed up I didn't even recognize Lureen when she first came to see me after they found me."

Ennis just stared and finally managed to choke out, "Are you real? You ain't just another dream?"

Jack smiled again, a very tired and weak smile but it was a Jack Twist smile all right. "I'm real, Cowboy."

Ennis turned the faucet on and splashed water on his face. He had to be dreaming. He just had to. This couldn't be really happening; could it? He turned back to Jack and he was still standing there smiling.

"Jack?" and then he lunged for him, taking him to the floor and covering him with kisses.

"You're real? You're alive? You ain't dead? You ain't a pile of ashes?" A question, a kiss; a question, another kiss etc.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes," Jack answered, flat on his back on the floor with Ennis on top of him. "I'm real and I'm alive but I'm week as a piss ant right now. I need your help, Cowboy. Can you give me a hand?"

Ennis stood up and pulled Jack to his feet. "Anything, Jack; whatever you need, you just name it."

"I want you to come to Lightnin Flat with me, help me out for a while. Maybe you'll even decide you like being with me enough to stay on permanently. What do you think?"

"I'll do it. I'll go with you. You wanna go right now?" Ennis was breathing so hard he could hardly speak.

"In the morning would be fine. I'm really tired right now. Could I sit down?"

"Sure thing!" Ennis pulled out a chair from the tiny table and sat Jack down. "Can I get you anything? A beer? I just got two left. I was headed out to get more when you came …"

"Ennis?" Jack reached out a hand to him.

"Uh huh?" Ennis took his hand and held on tight.

"You still love me?"

"Always." Ennis choked back the tears.

"You gonna come to Lightnin Flat with me?"

"Uh huh."

"And you'll stay?"

"I'll stay, Jack, as long as you want me to."

"That'll be forever then."

"Sounds about right to me."

THE END


End file.
